


The Wolves' Winter

by lucyraebrown



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Omega, Brotherly Love, Lord Stark - Freeform, M/M, Non-Canon Relationship, but nevertheless very cute, direwolves, i could put so many warnings in these tags, i guarantee it's not clean or for the faint of heart, just beware, know what you're getting into lol, lord reed, lots of alpha stuff, lots of omega stuff, the crannogmen, the stark children - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 10:35:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27349747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucyraebrown/pseuds/lucyraebrown
Summary: A little one-shot I did for the magnificent sometimesimeow based on her series 'Tales of Snow and Madness'. Her stories got me through a bad month and I am so blessed to have a mind that allows me to think up these rather crazy ideas and bring them to life. I couldn't stop thinking about what could be if Ghost and Gray Wind followed in the footsteps of their masters and decided to have their own litter of pups. Also, Ghost is a girl in this one. Jon is pregnant with his third child, Bran can't wait to see Jojen in the Neck, and Eddard and Daeron are just innocent little Stark bastards.Thanks for your amazing tales, and I hope this one finds you.Kudos, lucyraebrown
Relationships: Ghost/Grey Wind (ASoIaF), Howland Reed/Ned Stark, Jojen Reed/Bran Stark, Robb Stark/Jon Snow
Comments: 4
Kudos: 26





	The Wolves' Winter

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sometimesimeow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sometimesimeow/gifts).



Grey Wind was mounting Ghost again.  
A few months after their precious direwolves were weaned off of the bottle, Jon and Robb found that not unshockingly, Ghost was a female. He could have been male and the situation would have been even more coincidental to their own relationship, but the animal world wasn’t near as strange as Westeros. Their relationship blossomed from being litter-mates to joining each other on hunts in the Godswoods, and although the Stark lovers knew their wolves were special, they weren’t surprised that the two beasts started fucking like hares. Sooner or later, the sheet white wolf was heavy with pups.  
Maester Luwin was the most appalled by this image. He still would never be comfortable with the idea that the youngest Starks, Eddard and Daeron, were conceived out of brotherly incest. But these were wolves, for the gods’ sake, and they should know better. Or at least know not to copy what was going on in their masters’ bed every second of the day.  
Nonetheless, the wise maester took Ghost in when she was swelled and ready to give birth. Direwolves hadn’t been seen beyond the Wall since before the structure was built, but he took his time to read and study the nature of the animal beforehand. He came to love the sweet-natured wolves that the Stark children had raised on their own; they were like ancestral swords with teeth and an instinct to slaughter their enemy to bits. Even Grey Wind, who meandered the hallways unhappily when his mate was locked away in the castle, took it upon himself to deliver little gifts of poppy and bones for the maester to take.  
Everyone was excited for the pups to come after they got over the fact that they were bastards in their wolfy nature. Bran made a bed out of furs and silk in his chamber for his newest pups to rest in before he went to the Neck to be fostered. Jon had promised Jojen and Meera, his brother and sister, each a pup of their own if Ghost gave birth to enough. Bran was particularly excited to raise the two before delivering them. There was another wolf to be delivered. Benjen wanted one of his own to release back beyond the wall, so it would always be there to remind him of home and his proud house’s sigil. Howland, who had replied to the letter than his sweet Jon sent him, decided the endeavor worthy and he would be happy knowing his husband was protected by a big strong direwolf.  
Jon was about as full of the baby as his direwolf was when she went into labor. Luwin assured the two Starks that they didn’t need to be around when the pups were born; they paid no mind and slept on the floor around her. It was early morning when a short yelp woke Robb up, his wife in his arms. Jon stirred but complained about more sleep, his arms wrapping around Winterfell’s heir tighter than before under the furs. Babies and being the Lady of Winterfell made him tired, and there was no way in hell he was getting up unless his direwolf was in labor.  
“Jon, Ghost is in labor!” The dark-haired Robb announced excitedly, shaking his mate awake to show. The wolf was laying on her side a few feet away from them, her breath heaving and squelches of pre-birth dripping onto the stone. “Wake up, I’ll have Luwin bring us our breakfast in here. Don’t you want to see the pups?”  
The omega was dripping in slick because of the baby in his belly, but he didn’t hesitate to condone Robb’s wishes. Their grand-pups were being born — it was almost as exciting as the birth had been of their two sons. Even Eddard and Daeron were here for the celebration; Robb had smelled them in their cradles as soon as he heard Ghost pacing that evening. Hopefully, they’d be awake enough to see the birth as well.  
“Daeron wants you,” Luwin announced once the boys had risen from their little nest around the albino direwolf. Jon was still rubbing his eyes but he nonetheless carefully placed his youngest son on his teat, sighing happily in response as Robb wrapped his arms around Eddard and waited for Ghost to break. “Lord Stark said he’d be in sooner or later with Rickon. He wants to see his newest pet come out firsthand.”  
“They’ll be fine little pups, I’m sure of it.” Said Robb, letting his heir crawl around the maester’s legs as he went to check on the pregnancy. Ghost came up to him slowly to lick his face as he touched her belly, pressing gently to where she yelped. “I feel some movement; they’re alive.”  
The mother was heaving some more as the time passed, and she began to pace, crouching down as if she was ready to drop her kin. Grey Wind eventually made it past the door when Rickon and Lord Stark arrived, and he was helpful enough to lick at his mate’s opening, trying to encourage his sons and daughters to come into the world of Winterfell.  
“Puppy!” Screamed Eddard, making grabby hands towards the backside of Ghost before Jon scooped him up in his hands. Sure enough, a tiny tail had shown. It was white, just like its mother, and squirmed as the Maester Luwin pulled it out from the womb. Carefully, all joined to watch, purring out comments as the puppy made the first breath of Northern air.  
It was a tiny thing with grey speckles around its face and hocks, howling and grunting as it shoved its blind self against Ghost’s teats. It drank happily, becoming more and more lively as the second puppy poked out and was ready to join him. The third was a runt, black with dark brown eyes and a tail that was never formed — a direct result of the incest, but he nonetheless was healthy and was soon joining his siblings in a fair game of chase around the Maester’s office.  
A few weeks passed and the three direwolf pups were already causing trouble. The largest white pup, a girl, was named Lark and represented her future master Meera in every shape and form. She was the leader of the pack, leading her siblings into the crypts while their mother slept or engaged in rough cleaning with her mate. Her two younger brothers were named Mance and River, and they were as much of omegas as their real human master was.  
Mance, the runt with no tail, had already attempted to sway Lark into cleaning him with her tongue and was refusing to stop drinking milk off of Ghost even though his siblings were weaned. He was attached to Robb and followed him all day, watching him practice his swordsmanship with Jory or eat a hearty dinner with his family (in case anyone dropped a bit of mutton or potato).  
River, who looked much like Gray Wind, was troublesome nonetheless but took to the finer pieces of being a royal direwolf. He swam in the hot springs (hence the name Rickon had shouted out once he found his puppy submerged in the water) and let Sansa dress him with a silk ribbon and paint his nails with ruby red polish. Unlike his siblings he would most likely be staying in Winterfell — he was promised to the youngest Stark boy as soon as he was born, and he was no less a fine, pristine pup who would protect the boy from harm and allow Shaggydog to be his mate.  
Unlike they had done with their personal wolves, Jon and Robb decided the pups could take their sweet time growing up. They slept as a family; the boys at the top with Eddard between them and Daeron in his crib, Ghost and Grey Wind at their feet, and a happy amount of puppies squeezed in between the crevasses, snoring softly and waking to find themselves choked in loved by Jon's sons. Jon's belly was getting bigger the more he noticed the time flying by. The pups were almost the size of a giant's foot when his water broke; it was time to forget their peace for a while and remember who he was. An omega. Robb's omega. The carrier of Stark heirs with bastard last names and looks that matched their father.  
The maester was called in one early morning to find Jon pacing uncontrollably around the bed-chamber, Robb at his side and Ghost at his feet. The smell was indescribably sweet -- the floor was soaked with his honey, seeping into the floorboards, and his skin was pouring out sweat quicker than a tourney horse. His husband had been making notes between his wife's breaths; they were getting shorter by the minute and the room was beginning to spin, and so Luwin took it into his own hands to cover his nose and dive in headfirst into the horrors of the Stark heir's bedroom.  
Eddard and Daeron were crying when the healer took Jon out, and the pups soon joined them in such lonesome howls that even their parents copied. Robb hit the wolves on the noses. This was no time to cry, they were going to have a new baby to love upon! Bran awoke to find the noises unbearable to his otherworldly head and set to take his nephews outside to play; he had known for weeks that Jon was going to pop soon, and so he had enough time to make up a game that the young bastards could distract themselves with while their mother pushed another pup out. It was a happy day in Winterfell when the news spread that Jon Snow had given birth to a healthy, pale baby girl -- his first girl, and as far as the Old Gods knew, his final child before his body gave into infertility. She was named Howley for his mother and had the prettiest chocolate-brown hair, big grey eyes, and a smile that erased Robb's memory too quickly it made him forget his own name.  
Once Howley was deemed healthy and doing well, the family set off in the direction of the House Reed, in the deep of the Neck of Westeros. A band of soldiers followed along with the Starks -- Jory, his horse in the led, a few bannermen who could fight, along with some of the Manderly soldiers who desired to see beyond the chill of the North's cold but most likely just wanted to bask in the crannog omega whores.  
Behind them on a fine white mare was Robb with Jon in his arms, snuggled up in a heavy coat and furs to keep him warm, even though his mate's alpha heat was enough to light a thousand fires. Daeron and Eddard sat on Bran's lap as he rode next to them, and new Howley was tucked in between Rickon's chest and a bundle of cozy linens atop a horse no bigger than a pony. Robb rode with a white glimmer in his eyes; his family was fine and beautiful and the people of the taverns stopped them to offer bread and stew. He had the happiest of days now that he and Jon were bound by more than just brotherly love. They were joined by three of their own children and many wolves.  
Ghost and Grey Wind led the party itself many miles ahead. River followed on his father's tail, sniffing out rabbits and moles to give to his mother, whose flank was once again heavy with pups. Mance stayed behind to keep the party in order, his stubby tail wagging when he yipped and tumbled in the snow. Lark had started to become more independent than her band of brothers and nipped at the heels of the horses to keep them alert, and laid watch outside the tents no matter the hour. She was loyal to her master's, and although Meera would soon take on that role, Jon had an intuition that she may return to visit the North as soon as the next snow melted.  
The weather was becoming evidently warmer when the party camped for that evening, a simple, cool breeze echoing into the mountains behind them. Although Jon was born and raised in the swampy-wonderland that was his mother's kingdom, he was bred for Northern snow and ice. He was displeased to notice that his forehead was sweating, and Robb sent a wink in his direction, causing his cheeks to enlighten at the thought. The North may have been cool and easy on his mind, but the hot, murky air sent his hormones spiraling. It wasn't long before Robb dragged him into the pines, pushing him up against a tree. His pussy swelled.  
"It's so warm here," Purred the heir, tickling his lips upon his wife's neck. Jon shivered at the thought, his arms coming around Robb's waist to pull him closer to where he would find pleasure. "Makes me almost wish we were alone, traveling just to fuck in each kingdom we pass."  
Jon chuckled, feeling his husband's hands as they tore down his trousers and crept mischievously into his folds. He let out a moan, causing the wolf in front of him to bark in excitement and attack his lips with a kiss. "If Eddard, Daeron, and Howley weren't some steps away, I'd take that request gladly."  
"You don't think they know already? That they're here because of us, bastards in their nature, their little incest-ridden parents fucking in the tent next to them?" Robb was fucking him already, pulling Jon back to face the tree so he could spread his legs further. Slick was already coating the forest floor. They couldn't be any dirtier; Robb was just waiting to bathe in the sweet springs of the Neck, just to ensure that he could have his brother in the public eye of the crannogmen. "Now be quiet and be good for me. I'm going to make sure you're swoll before we leave at daybreak."  
At last, the party arrived at the sweet, muggy smells of the Neck. Lord Reed greeted his son with uttermost glee; he nearly swung Jon off of his horse and cradled him close to his breast, pressing kisses down his neck and torso. Robb followed and hugged his mother-in-law with respect, a little bow as he presented the three Stark bastards; Eddard and Daeron at his feet, Howley in his arms.  
"Oh my, how beautiful they are!" He cooed, a little teary-eyed. He dropped to the forest floor just to grasp his grandchildren before breaking into a silent sob. Golden locks swooped into gray, signifying his age (Ned was aging slower, but both were still as handsome as Jon remembered them), and he took all three kids in his arms, a bundle of babbling little Starks hugging their grandmother. "Eddard looks just like Ned. And little Daeron, you're the image of your father! We have two gorgeous male heirs. And this must be Howley, my namesake."  
Brushing his tears away, Howland Reed stuffed his face into Howley's and peppered her with gentle kisses. "Jon's chocolate locks. You're going to be desired by all of the lords and ladies, little one!"  
"They are fine little pups," Robb announced, proudly placing his children upon his lap. "Thank you, Lord Reed, for helping make them. They are one day going to be the heart of the North."  
"And they will have the love of the crannog, of course!" Jon grinned and took in his old home, the smells and sights bringing him back to infanthood where he ran through the woods with Jojen and Meera at his side. "I am excited to see my sweet siblings. I hope they're as excited to see us. Meera must be a lady by now!"  
"She is beginning to search for a mate," Lord Reed smiled, taking the reins of Jon and Robb's horse and leading it down the path. "She has had a few ruts and although it would have comforted me to have Benjen around for them, she is blossoming well. Jojen is awaiting Bran at the crannog. He is still asking for Ned's blessing for a marriage."  
"And he shall get it if the King in the North has any say in it," Boasted Robb, following his father's lover through the trees and marsh. "Did you get my Father's letter? He has agreed to step down once his lover is ready to accommodate him in the Neck."  
Stopping at the front of the royal crannog, Howland dropped a glare to his grandchildren and Ned's children behind the heir. He'd received no letter; Eddard Stark was known for scrapping them after he told the maester he was writing to the Neck, too embarrassed to spare his lover words of endearment through parchment. Was this one he had scrapped or was it lost on its way through the skies?  
"He has to have lost his mind! Stay? With me?" With a trembling lip, Lord Reed shoved Jon and Robb into the hut and moved the curtains away. Ghost and Grey Wind darted past before he could initiate privacy, sniffing Howland's belongings before settling at their masters' feet. "He is absolutely crackers. And I- oh my! Bran is here, too! I must start preparing!"  
"I figured you would have received the message," Jon smiled softly, pressing a kiss to his mother's cheek. "But we had other news to tell you of. Robb and I will be married in the late fall."  
The stars in the early eve were shining as the Starks awoke the following hour after. It was a perfect scene; Jon toed out in his robes with his two babies on his breasts, bare feet as he surveyed his old home on the edge of Greywater. Against the heart tree, Meera was making a collar of reed and flowers for Lark, her white fur already stained with sludge and mud. Bran and Jojen were kissing in the spring, the crannog's thighs wrapped around him tightly as a quiet moan filled the air.  
Two dire wolf pups, born on the trip, were dancing around Lord Reed's feet as he cooked dinner in a pan and Rickon helped him, handing him spices as he snuck bits and pieces of dried meat into his mouth. Shaggydog wasn't far, of course, laying right outside of the little dwelling. Ghost and Grey Wind were licking each other. Mance and River, the two wild brothers, had found their company of crannog children, pulling snakes out of the mud and shrieking in delight.  
Before he could wipe tears from his face at the perfect image, Robb was there to kiss them away. He stuck two fingers into Jon's cunt and tickled his senses eagerly. "Hello, dear wife," He cooed, Howley crawling over to her grandfather past the curtains. Warm smoke wafted from the top of the home, smelling of Northern vegetables and fresh fish. She, like Eddard and Daeron, would be walking soon, in search of adventure with her bastard brothers. "Would you like to go for a walk with me?"  
"I'm not your wife yet," Giggled the omega, a moan escaping his lips as honey dripped to his feet and slicked over his toes. "Oh, Robb. Take me here."  
"Here? In front of your family? But they'll all be watching." The heir smirked and was already undoing the ties on his pants, releasing a hard member. Pressing against his backside, Jon whimpered and uttered a quiet shout for his cock. Robb laughed heartily, his chest throbbing in pleasure. "You couldn't make me happier, gorgeous. Now bend; let's show them how the crannogmen accommodate kings."


End file.
